Confessions of a Curious Bookseller(77)
Thank you for answering my question about the pool. It is funny how finances always got in the way of things growing up when Father ran a mildly successful general store. Yes, I do remember our car trips to the Jersey Shore. It was always the town of Brigantine that we went to, as it was a stone’s throw from the Atlantic City casinos where Father could hopefully win back the gas money he spent getting there. He always ended up losing more, however, and wandered back to the car defeated, telling us all rather angrily to “get in, trip’s over.” And how we cried! And how you remained cold and silent the entire way. Don’t you think, in retrospect, that it would have been much easier had Father only bought us an aboveground pool?
Fawn
P.S. Yes, there was another building collapse, but everyone is okay. It happened way over in Northern Liberties, nowhere near my home. I believe the rain has weakened the underground structures of many of the older buildings.
From: Albert Collins
Sent: Fri, June 7, 2019 at 6:10 AM
To: Fawn Birchill
Subject: Regarding A Visit
Good afternoon,
Though we are very pleased to have received an offer to read in your store as well, we are going to politely decline, as Mr. McEwan has quite a full schedule already. I do hope you will stop by, however, and see him at the Grumpy Mug, as you say your store is just down the street.
Cheers,
Albert Collins
From: Fawn Birchill
Sent: Fri, Jun 7, 2019 at 6:40 AM
To: Albert Collins
Re: Regarding A Visit
Mr. Collins,
Thank you so much for responding to my query, though it was less than what I had hoped to garner. It seems silly that you are not willing to allow him another brief appearance at a store that is literally steps away from the one he is officially visiting. How about you ask him directly instead of dictating his every move? Perhaps Mr. McEwan would be interested in doing this, and you are so stuck in your ways that you are unable to see this. And I do understand that if he were to go visit every single bookstore in the vicinity, he would never go home. But please rest assured that we are the only two bookstores in the neighborhood, so it would only be two stops.
Please reconsider?
Fawn
From: Fawn Birchill
Sent: Fri, Jun 7, 2019 at 7:30 AM
To: Jack Grisby
Subject: When you get in
Jack,
Please take the stack of cards I left on the counter by the register and hand them out in front of the Grumpy Mug. They are discount cards for coffee and a book. As I was up on my roof the other night, I realized that people coming from the east are distracted by his store and never make it to mine, so this will be a good way of reminding them of our presence.
I believe Mark can’t be upset if you stay on the sidewalk.
Many thanks,
Fawn, Owner
From: Jack Grisby
Sent: Fri, Jun 7, 2019 at 10:00 AM
To: Fawn Birchill
Re: When you get in
Hi Fawn,
Rainbow and I stood outside and handed out the cards and when it wasn’t working she did magic tricks and put the cards in there pockets for them to find later. She is so talented omg.
Jack
June 10, 2019
I woke up this morning to discover fresh graffiti on the side of my building. This has never happened before, so I can’t help but wonder if it wasn’t Mark or one of his jealous employees. I asked Rainbow about it, but she had her door shut all night while working on an “illusion to go down in history,” so she was no help whatsoever.
The graffiti itself looks pedestrian and amateur, and it does bear the telltale signs of one who does not do this often. It’s really quite a way to wake up on an otherwise beautiful day: get the newspaper, then turn back to your home to see derogatory slang in bold letters sprayed across your siding. To whoever is reading this, please do not judge me. If you have paid any attention to my woes thus far, you would understand that I am at my wit’s end here and honestly knew not what else I was to do. Also, I am not a morning person. So I took a can of red paint from the basement and an old brush and walked over to the Grumpy Mug, still in my bathrobe, and wrote “LOWLIFE” in large, bold letters across his building. As I was halfway through, even at that early-morning hour, a tour bus passed and I immediately regretted choosing such a long word. I simply couldn’t just leave it at “LOWL” so I hastily finished and ran back inside to the safety of my fort.
I cannot believe that it has come to this. After the vandalizing, I tried to read my newspaper in peace but the graffiti, now on both of our buildings, would not leave my thoughts. It was all I could do not to pace around the room and check the windows.
And then, at about 7:30, Mark rode up on his bike. Through the window, I could see the look on his face change from pleasant to livid bafflement. He immediately turned to my store, and I ducked away from the window so quickly that the act of flitting away was almost as obvious as if I had been standing on the front lawn with a megaphone telling him I did it. That said, he must not have seen me and went inside. He emerged about twenty minutes later with a can of white paint.
Honestly, what is the world coming to that people are so vindictive? Why should I have to deal with this kind of jealous, petty behavior when all I want to do is sell books? And why should I have to suffer the slings and arrows of my customers’ judgments on my broken stair, toilet, windows, and floors? Often I feel like John Proctor in The Crucible or Shylock in The Merchant of Venice, desperately trying to make a case for myself before people who have already made up their minds. Selling books used to be such a simple, happy venture for me.